Keepsakes
by timeaftertime09
Summary: Set after Daniel follows Betty to London. Both with unspoken feelings, Betty helps Daniel move into his new flat.
1. Keepsakes

Betty knocked on the door to Daniel's new London flat. She was glad that after a couple of weeks of staying in a hotel suite, he was officially going to be living in the city. During their first dinner together, they had developed an unspoken understanding of why he was there; the way he looked at her and found excuses to touch her said it all. But while they both acknowledged it deep down, neither one of them was ready to say it out loud. She wasn't sure what was going to happen between them, but she was glad to have a permanent friend close by.

"Hey, come on in," Daniel gave her a warm smile as he opened the door.

She walked inside and gazed in awe at the enormous space.

"What do you think?" he asked. "Be honest."

"It's amazing – it's twice as big as your one in New York!" Betty said, looking around at the spacious living area with built-in shelves and a gourmet eat-in kitchen.

"Yeah, well, I got a good deal on it and I figured the extra room wouldn't hurt," he explained. "So you like it?"

Betty wondered why he was so desperate for her approval, but didn't question him.

"I love it!" she smiled.

"Good," he grinned with pride. "You know, you don't have to help me unpack – we could just hang out. The cable's hooked up and I've got a blu-ray player if you wanna watch a movie. Or we could go to one –"

Betty couldn't help but laugh at how accommodating he was being. When she was still at MODE – even on her off-days - she would help him with whatever he needed her for.

"It's okay, Daniel. We really need to unpack your stuff - before you trip and kill yourself in the middle of the night," she said, shoving boxes out of the way in order to look at the rest of the apartment.

"Where's your bathroom?" she asked.

"Is your toilet acting up again?" Daniel asked, worriedly, weaving around the boxes to show it to her. "You should really talk to your landlord."

"I know, but I've been so busy lately and every time I get a chance, he's not there," she excused.

"We could go now?" he suggested, before tripping on a box close to her and knocking her over.

"Ow!" they both exclaimed.

"Sorry," he apologized, his eyes lingering and his warm breath falling on her lips.

It was enough to make Betty wonder what kissing him would be like, but she quickly wiped the thought out of her mind.

"See – I told you this would happen – and this time you took me down with you," she teased and attempted to get up. "And I appreciate the offer, but it's really not that bad – plus, he's not there on Saturdays anyway . . . So . . . the bathroom?"

"It's over here," he stood up and guided her around the corner, his hand on her waist.

A tingling sensation went up her spine.

"Thanks," she said, an awkward silence falling upon them. "Well, I'd better . . . you know."

"Yeah, sorry," he cleared his throat and went back to the living room.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Betty sat on the floor, unpacking a box of Daniel's CDs, and laughed at what she came across.

"_Three_ copies of the 'Wicked' soundtrack? Is there something you aren't telling me, Daniel?" she teased. "All these years, maybe _Marc_ was more your type . . .?"

"Shut up!" he snatched the CDs and smacked her with a throw pillow.

"Hey!" she giggled in protest.

"I am _definitely_ _NOT_ into guys!" he said, taking a seat dangerously close to her.

"Good to know . . ." she flirted. "Not that there's anything wrong with it, but I'd be a little disappointed if _you_ were . . ."

"Really?" he cocked his eyebrow.

"Really," she smiled, slyly.

His sexy grin and his thigh brushing against hers made her heart race.

"Seriously, MODE always got promotional stuff - I just never had time to get rid of those," he explained. "Here, take 'em. I know how much you liked that show and maybe Justin and Hilda would like one, too."

"Thanks," she told him.

She smiled and thought back to when he had given her the tickets in the first place. Hiding them in a sandwich and trying to get her to find them, but she had assumed there was something wrong with it and ruined his surprise. She remembered how adamant he had been about her not dating Henry again, pretending to go with Gio, and at the same time, trying to keep Daniel from using his body to gain investors. And when Daniel found out she had really been there with Henry, he had gone as far as saying she was stupid, crossing the line in their relationship in order to protect her from being hurt again. God, they had almost been like a couple in a triangle.

"Hey, you okay?" Daniel snapped her back to the present.

"Yep. Just thinking," she replied.

"Anything important?" he asked.

"Memories – that's all," Betty said.

"Grubstick?" he scoffed.

"And _you_," she added.

"_Me?_" he said, skeptically.

"Mmm-hmm. You were a big part of the 'Wicked' event," she reminded him.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry about that . . . It's just that guy always pissed the hell out of me. I know you liked him, but he hurt you so much – I couldn't stand it," Daniel excused.

"I know I never said it then, and I always refused to listen, but thank you. All those times he showed up . . . you were only looking out for me, and it was really sweet," she said, squeezing his hand.

Daniel smiled shyly at her before rifling through more CDs.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

At three in the morning, Betty slowly opened her eyes, feeling a weight on her head and across her stomach, as well as a major crick in her neck. She woke up enough to realize it was Daniel. They had fallen asleep against one of the last boxes. Having unpacked almost every one of them, they must have collapsed from exhaustion, too tired to move.

"Daniel? Daniel, get up," Betty nudged him.

"Mmmm . . . it's too early . . ." he mumbled.

"Daniel, come on – you need to go to bed," she said, dragging him off the floor.

"What time is it?" he rubbed his eyes.

Betty glanced at her watch.

"3:15AM," she answered, pushing him toward his bedroom and heading to the couch.

"Betty?" Daniel said, padding back to the living room a few minutes later, in a wife-beater and a pair of sweats.

She looked up from unfolding a blanket.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"What are you doing?" he wondered.

"Sleeping on the couch," she said, innocently.

"Come, on – the bed's more comfortable," he offered.

"Daniel . . ." she hesitated, yet found herself walking toward him.

"It's a _really . . . big . . . bed_ – we could go _miles_ without touching," he gave her a convincing grin.

"Miles, huh?" she smirked.

"Miles," he repeated, throwing her an oversized t-shirt.

"Okay . . ." she agreed, unconvinced.

She came out of the bathroom and timidly entered the bedroom. He wasn't _completely_ lying – it _was_ a king. And as they crawled onto opposite sides, there was still plenty of room in the middle. Plus, it was definitely more comfortable than the couch would have been. She closed her eyes and drifted off, too tired to analyze anything anymore.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next day, Betty awoke to find herself literally tangled up with Daniel. She had no idea how they had managed to go from different sides of the bed to getting completely wrapped up in each other. Was it a sign? She tried to wriggle out, but it was too hard and she didn't want to wake him. In a way, it felt good to be held in his warm, muscular arms, to feel his chest rise and fall, to feel the scruff of his cheek tickle hers . . .

"Mmmm . . . Hi," Daniel sleepily smiled down at her.

"Hi," Betty said, shifting around to face him. "So _this_ is what it's like to sleep with Daniel Meade . . ."

Daniel laughed so hard, his entire body shook, causing Betty to laugh with him.

"Sorry," she smiled, sheepishly. "So how _did_ we end up like this?"

"I don't know . . . but I'm not complaining," he grinned boyishly, toying with a lock of her hair.

"You did _not_ just say that!" she giggled in protest, throwing a pillow at him.

He threw one back at her and playfully wrestled her down.

"_This_ from the girl who started the shameless flirting in the first place?" Daniel countered, his lips mere inches from hers.

"Yeah," she half-heartedly maintained.

He smiled and slowly pressed his mouth to hers. Betty didn't resist. She welcomed it, feeling a sense of relief knowing for sure that her assumptions were true. His lips melted into hers and she briefly fell into a state of bliss before realizing where they were and what would inevitably happen if they didn't stop.

"Wait," she pulled away. "I don't think we should be doing this."

"Yeah . . . you're right. I'll uh . . . I'll go make some coffee . . ." Daniel said, trying to hide his disappointment.

But Betty saw straight through it.

"Daniel . . ." she said, grabbing her jeans and following him.

"Hazelnut or French Vanilla?" he asked, putting a single cup into the machine for himself.

"Daniel, talk to me," Betty pleaded.

"Cream? Sugar? I think I've got some Splenda around here somewhere . . ." he continued to avoid her.

She took his arm and pulled him over to the couch.

"Daniel, you can't ignore me forever," she said.

"I'm not ignoring you. I was talking to you the whole time," he contended.

"You know what I mean. We have to talk about what just happened," Betty insisted.

"What's there to talk about? We kissed – no big deal!" he claimed.

"_Yes_, it was," she argued. "_We_ don't kiss!"

"_Exactly_," Daniel bluntly stated, going back to the kitchen.

Betty tailed him.

"What I meant was that we've never done that before . . . and it was _huge_," she clarified. "It's not that I didn't like it . . . I just thought we were moving a little too fast."

"Can we just forget about it?" Daniel requested, curtly handing her a cup of coffee.

Betty accepted it, feeling the chill in his mood.

"I'll um . . . I'll help you unpack these last few boxes and then I should go home and change," she said, fingering his Harvard shirt.

"Whatever," he said, starting on a box of dishes.

Betty sighed and pulled open a box in the living room marked BS. She assumed it stood for Bedroom Suite, but was surprised when she opened it up to find the Mexican sombrero she had brought Daniel back from Guadalajara.

"You still have this?" she questioned, holding it up.

Daniel turned around and shrugged, going back to the dishes before realizing what box she had opened.

Betty looked beyond the hat to find newspaper clippings of their dinner the night he'd been stood up and another of her BLOBBY award ceremony, the MODE issue of Fabia and the issue featuring Victoria & Diego, snapshots of various moments, the thumbs-up mug and other random gifts she had given him over the years, a framed professional photo of them at Hilda and Bobby's wedding, and last, but not least, the 100th Anniversary copy of MODE, featuring the bio she had written for him. So many of their major milestones and even not-so-major ones were in that box, and he'd kept them . . . brought them to London with him.

"I can't believe you saved all of this . . ." she said, almost speechless.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, then saw what she was going through. "Oh. I-It's nothing . . . I found most of it in my desk, when I was cleaning out my office . . . Guess I, uh . . . couldn't bring myself to throw it away . . ."

She took one look at him placing plates in the dark cherry cabinets, attempting to fight the tears in his eyes, and immediately knew how deep he truly was in this. She walked over and gently turned him around.

"Hey . . . look at me," she cupped his face. "I want this, too."

Her own eyes pooling, she earnestly kissed his lips.

"I'm sorry," he said, resting his forehead against hers.

"Don't be – we just got our signals crossed, that's all. We need to communicate a little better from now on," she smiled.

"Now on?" he repeated.

"Yeah. I'm in this, Daniel – wherever it leads. These past couple of months – me leaving . . . you shutting me out, only to end up coming here - I've realized that you mean more to me than I ever thought anyone could. I was too scared to admit it, but I'm ready now. I want to find out what's next for us – together," Betty said.

Daniel caressed her cheek and looked at her with deep blue eyes, capturing her lips until her knees weakened from pleasure. If he hadn't been holding her up, she would've collapsed - but it didn't matter - he'd always be there to catch her. She was certain of that now more than ever.


	2. Hints

_Thank you all so much for reading and for your comments! Back by request, I've decided to add two more parts to this story. Here's the next chapter . . . Enjoy! :)_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Betty felt lips on her right eyelid, then her left, then on her mouth. She slowly opened her eyes and smiled.

"Morning, beautiful," Daniel caressed her cheek.

"I could get used to this," she admitted.

He grinned.

"I do sleep a whole lot better when you're next to me," he confessed.

"So that night wasn't just a fluke or a sign after all?" Betty raised her eyebrow.

"No – it was. I just mean that after that night, I woke up feeling like I'd truly slept," he explained. "I haven't really felt like that in a long time. Not since before . . ."

"Before Molly died?" she finished for him.

"Yeah," he lowered his head. "I've never felt so strong about anyone . . . until you. Which is ironic, I guess."

"How so?" Betty wondered.

"You're the one who made me want more than just a fling, got me to see that sleeping with a different woman every night wasn't good for me or them," he said.

"Plus, I was tired of getting your dirty underwear thrown in my face every time you lost something important at one of their places," she joked.

Daniel chuckled.

"Seriously, Betty, I'm crazy about you," he revealed.

"You know you mean a lot to me too, right?" she assured him.

"Yeah, but just so I don't forget, could you remind me?" he flirted.

She obliged, teasing his bottom lip, then his top before deepening the kiss, grasping the hair at the nape of his neck, grazing her tongue along his teeth before entering his mouth. He moaned and moved his lips down to her neck and chest, his hands roaming to the bottom of her tank top, slowly pushing it up as he kissed her from her belly up to her breasts. She groaned in pleasure as he simultaneously massaged them and kissed her mouth, but suddenly pushed him away.

"Daniel, I can't do this – I want to, but I - I'm just not ready," she said.

Daniel sighed. She could tell he was disappointed, but he didn't seem mad – or hurt like he was the past week.

"It's okay - I understand. I didn't mean to push you," he apologized.

"You weren't. And I trust you completely, it's just . . . it's _us_ – doing _that_. We've been friends for so long that it's hard to turn that button off sometimes," she confessed.

"I guess I've had a little longer to get used to the idea," he said. "But it was weird for me too at first . . . to even admit that I wanted you like that. And I do . . . but only when you're ready."

"Thank you," she smiled, brushing her hand against his stubbly cheek. "How do you do it?"

"Uh . . . Betty, I didn't think you were a virgin –" Daniel said, confused.

"_No!_ Not _that!_" she playfully smacked him, then got serious again. "How do you make it so easy to fall for you?"

Daniel chuckled, sheepishly.

"You have the sexiest smile," Betty said. "I don't know why I never noticed that before."

"And you have the sexiest little freckles on your nose," Daniel kissed it.

Betty blushed; nobody had ever said that about her nose before.

"I need to go home and get ready for work soon – I've got a meeting at 10AM with Annie Leibovitz," Betty told him, stroking his bare chest.

"_The_ Annie Leibovitz? Betty, MODE has been trying to get her for years! How did you do it?" Daniel asked.

Betty shrugged.

"I just worked my magic charm . . . No – Lindsay has some connections, and since I promised it would be a spread from a different aspect – mostly about her personal and non-celebrity photographs, her background, stuff like that - she agreed," Betty explained.

"_You_ are amazing!" he grinned in awe.

"I know!" she beamed with excitement. "What time is it?"

"8AM," he answered.

"Good. That means I still have a little time left for someone else amazing," she replied, pressing her mouth to his.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hey, baby," Daniel said, greeting Betty with a quick kiss.

"Hey! So you ready for this?" she asked, walking into his flat and sitting on the couch.

"I think so – I mean I never thought I'd set foot back in a classroom, but I really like this course and maybe it'll help me get a job that _I_ choose, for once," Daniel said, sitting next to her.

"Good. I'm proud of you . . . You wanted to do something else and you're going for it," she told him.

"Thanks," he smiled.

"So do you have a study guide, or notes or something?" she asked.

"Oh – yeah," he answered, finally taking his gaze off of her. "Here."

Betty looked at the papers and squinted her eyes.

"Daniel, I can't read any of this – and I've figured out _a lot_ of your chicken scratch over the years," she handed it back to him.

"Yeah, you can. Here – see, that's an 'r' and this one is an 'e' –" he showed her.

"And if you have to tell me what each letter is, we'll be here all day and you won't get any studying done," she pointed out. "Why don't you type it out for me? I'll do some work on my IPad."

"Okay . . ." he sighed and dragged out his laptop.

For a half an hour, they worked silently, stealing glances at each other when the other wasn't looking. Then they both locked eyes.

"Neither one of us is getting any work done this way," Betty finally said.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I've just got something on my mind and I can't concentrate."

"What is it?" she wondered.

"I can't tell you, because if I do, I know I won't be able to get this done," he explained.

"Okay, now you're making me curious," she said.

"Good . . . it'll keep it interesting . . ." he grinned, devilishly.

"What do you have in mind?" she flirted.

Daniel thought carefully for a moment.

"Okay. For every question I get right, you give me a kiss," he proposed.

"Fair enough, but what do I get in return? What's this thing you're thinking about?" she countered.

"For every question I get wrong, I'll give you a hint to what it is," he said.

"You're on – but what happens when you run out of clues and I know what it is?" she asked.

"I'm not planning on getting that many wrong, Betty," he smirked.

"But what if you go over?" she said.

"I won't," he maintained.

"But what if you do? I have to have some sort of gratification, don't you think?" she teased.

"Okay . . . if that happens, then you can have whatever you want from me – within reason," he caved.

"Deal," she said, sealing it with a kiss. "_That_ was for good luck. So are you done typing yet?"

"Almost . . . there – I'll go get it from the printer," he said.

He came back and handed her the sheets, keeping a few blank ones for himself.

"Alright. Name three ways you can advertise," she started.

"Print, audio, and television," Daniel answered, confidently.

"Good," Betty pecked his nose.

"You know, when I said kisses, I meant real ones – not weak cop-outs," he teased.

"Be patient - the more you get right, the better they'll get," she assured him. "What is 'product placement'?"

"Featuring products in an existing media in order to sell them," he said.

"Correct," she kissed his cheek. "In branding, how many times does a product usually have to be repeated in order for a consumer to remember it?"

"I know this one . . . um . . . four?" he said, unsure.

"Nope – seven," she answered, and looked at him expectantly. "Where's my hint?"

"Hold on . . . I have to make it . . ." he said, taking pen and drawing on a part of his paper. "I'm not very good at drawing, but . . . here."

He handed it to her and she was puzzled by what looked like a pair of hands palm-to-palm.

"Hands? Clap?" she guessed. "I don't get it . . ."

Daniel chuckled.

"Okay – next question. What are the songs made up to sell a product called?"

"Um . . . bad?" he joked.

Betty started whistling a familiar Christmas tune.

"It's June – why are you thinking about Christmas?" Daniel asked.

"It's a hint, Daniel. '_Jingle_ Bells'? Jingle?" she shook her head. "Pay up."

He drew another picture and gave it to her.

"Glasses? Hand, glasses – hand glass? No . . ." she contemplated. "Um . . . which beer company came up with the catch phrase 'I love you, man!'?"

"Was it Budweiser or Miller?" Daniel thought for a minute. "Miller."

"Nope – Budweiser," she said.

Daniel groaned and proceeded to draw.

"I've gotta start getting these right or I'll never pass," he complained, giving her the paper.

"Box? Briefcase? This is getting weirder and weirder," Betty commented. "Okay . . . How did soap operas originally get their name?"

"That's easy – they were created to sell cleaning products like detergent and stuff to housewives," Daniel answered.

"Yep. Good job," she kissed his other cheek. "The Communications Act of 1934 created what in America?"

"Uh . . . I don't know – the radio?" he guessed.

"The FCC," she said.

He groaned and started drawing.

"A house?" she took the other pieces of paper and tried to put them together. "Hands, glasses, briefcase, house . . . I still don't get it."

"Be patient . . ." he mocked.

"Funny" she smirked. "What are the four Ps of the marketing mix?"

"Place . . . price . . . product and . . ." Daniel struggled with the fourth.

"Promotion," Betty added.

Daniel handed her the final hint.

"Last one," he said.

"Boy and girl stick figures with an arrow pointing to the boy? Okay . . . Hands, glasses, box, house, stick figures . . . This isn't fair, Daniel. I need another hint," Betty insisted.

"Okay, one more – _if_ I get another one wrong," he bargained.

"K," she said. "And actually, this will be your last question – I think you need to study more first."

"Really?" he whined.

"Yes, really. If you want to do well and get a job in this area in the future, you need to know the basics. And right now, you're getting more wrong than right," she told him.

"I guess so . . ." he conceded. "So what's the last question?"

"True or false? The BBC was formed by British and American electrical companies in 1922," she asked.

"False – electrical companies? And America? That doesn't make any sense," he said.

"It's true, Daniel. Now give me my hint and then go study for real," she told him.

"Okay . . . your last hint is it's something you helped me do a few weeks ago," he said.

"Put a new ringtone on your phone? No, that was last week . . ." she looked at the visual clues again. "House . . . box . . . Move in? You just moved in – wait – the stick figure couple – You want me to move in with you?"

Daniel nodded.

"So? Will you?" he asked.

"I don't know, Daniel. That's a big step . . . we haven't even slept together – well, not _really . . ._ I mean, we've slept in the same bed, but we've never _slept_ together . . ." she trailed off. "Are you sure you want to take that risk? Aside from the whole friend thing, what if we're not . . . compatible? You've been with a ton of models – what if I can't measure up to your . . . standards? Then you'd be stuck with me until I could move again."

"Betty, you're a thousand times better than any model. I love you, and because of that, I _know_ it will be amazing – because it's real," Daniel assured her.

"Y-You love me?" she repeated.

She had a feeling that he did – it was written all over his face ever since she found that box, but he'd never actually said the words before and it seemed surreal.

"I do," he said, taking her hand. "But I don't expect you to say it back – not until you really mean it."

Betty nodded, her stomach doing a flip-flop.

"So will you think about it – moving in with me, I mean. I told you we'd wait until you're ready on the other, and I meant it."

She had no idea what to do. This was serious – there was no going back from it. She knew he wasn't playing games, but . . .

"Come on, you're over here all the time anyway. You've spent the night a ton of times already, and unlike your apartment, it's got enough room for both of us. Besides, what could be better than waking up to this incredibly sexy face every morning?" he flirted.

"You really _are_ full of yourself, Meade," she smiled. "But you made some very good points . . . okay."

"Okay? So that's a 'yes'?" he asked.

She nodded and he tackled her in excitement, kissing her all over.

"Whoa! Baby, calm down!" she giggled. "I'm gonna go get some stuff together and I'll meet you back here tonight. In the meantime – study!"

"You sure you don't need some help?" he stalled, teasing her bottom lip, then her neck.

She playfully pushed him off of her.

"_Daniel . . . _I mean it. I'll see you later," she said, giving him a slow, titillating kiss before leaving.

Daniel slowly licked her mango-flavored lip gloss off of his lips and slammed back against the couch in frustration.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I still don't get what we're doing here when there are a hundred places to go out to eat at," Daniel complained as they walked into the grocery store a week later.

"Because I'm tired of opening up the fridge and finding nothing but beer, wine, and moldy cheese. I know you're taking college courses again and have to study, but the moldy cheese is just disgusting. Besides, as pretty as your kitchen is, I think we should get some use out of it," she replied.

"It's _our_ kitchen, now," he happily reminded her. "But it's not like either one of us can cook. So again, what are we doing here?"

"Papi sent me some recipes and I thought we could try them. We'll save money _and_ have fun!" she answered, eagerly grabbing a cart.

"If you say so . . ." Daniel muttered, unconvinced.

"Here – why don't you go get a few items on this list and meet me in the pasta aisle," she suggested, giving him a list.

"Okay . . . But don't get mad when I can't find anything," he warned her.

"Daniel, it's a grocery store – you _have_ been in one before, right?" Betty assumed.

"Actually, just the alcohol aisle . . ." he admitted, embarrassed.

"_Wow . . ._ okay . . ." she gave him a half-perplexed, half amused look. "Here's a tip - just go down the aisles and look for the items. There are even signs that give you an idea of what's in them."

"Like I said – don't yell at me when I come back with nothing right," he went off.

Betty smiled as she went down the aisles, picking up the items on her list. She couldn't believe Daniel had never really set foot in a grocery store before. Or maybe she could. He was rich . . . he couldn't cook . . . why would he want to get canned or frozen food when he could go to five-star restaurants or order takeout? But, she was determined to at least learn how to make one or two dishes. For one, her father was an expert and she missed his home-cooked meals, and for another, it was something she and Daniel could do together and enjoy. Plus, it saved a little money. Not that_ he_ cared, but no matter what her salary became, she could never see herself being frivolous with it. She absently went through the cereal aisle, ready to turn into the pasta one when she felt a hand cover her eyes from behind.

"Guess who?" the male voice said.

"Hmmm . . . Cedric? Is that you?" she teased, referring to the guy in photo lab. "Or maybe it's Ian, from accounting?"

Daniel seductively kissed her mouth.

"Mmm . . . Ian . . . what will my boyfriend say, if he sees me kissing you?" she continued the charade.

Daniel uncovered her eyes.

"_You_ are gonna pay for that," he flirted.

"Really?" she smiled, slyly.

"Yes, really. And your lesson is going to be this . . ." he said, throwing the few items he found in the cart, moving behind her, and covering her eyes back up.

"Daniel, what are you doing?" she asked, worriedly. "How am I supposed to drive this thing if I can't see?"

"I'm seeing for you," he replied.

"But –" she protested.

"Just trust me," he whispered in her ear in that sexy, rough tone that convinced her to do practically anything – and he knew it.

Betty sighed.

"Fine . . ." she caved. "Just be careful!"

Daniel grinned.

"Always," he promised and looked at what was left on the list. "Okay, turn left . . . yeah, that's good. Wait - watch out for that old lady in the scooter! _Damn_ – how fast can those things go?"

"Oh my god – _Daniel!_" Betty panicked.

"Shh . . . You're doing great, babe," he assured her. "Now go right – no - not too sharp! Good. Now take another left – no right!"

"_Daniel!_ You're gonna kill us or someone else!" Betty complained.

"Sorry - I guess the dairy's back that way . . . Now straight . . . Stop. Okay – milk . . . butter . . . cheese . . . Go straight again - I see the meat section. Stop. Alright . . . ground beef . . . deli turkey . . . chicken . . . Okay – now all we need is stuff for a salad and some bananas. Hold on – I need to figure out where that's at . . . Got it! It's right over there . . ." he directed.

"_Where_ is _there?_" she asked, getting frustrated.

She realized Daniel was having the time of his life playing navigator, but all she could think about at the moment was how stupid she looked and if someone was going to get hurt. She knew she needed to lighten up a little, though – she hadn't done anything crazy since she accidentally flashed Gio.

"Left – but be careful – we have to go around these frozen bins and there are a bunch of people here," he warned.

"Lead the way . . ." she tried to get into it.

On the positive side, they _were_ gaining more trust in each other - plus, his other arm never left her lower waist since they started. She felt like he was making sure everyone knew she was his – it gave her butterflies to think about it. And it wasn't because he was Daniel Meade, American Publishing Prince or Daniel Meade, New York's Sexiest Playboy. It was because he was Daniel Meade, the most amazing, kindest, attractive, intriguing man she knew . . . her best friend – and that was okay. She could finally admit that it honestly made it even better. She didn't have to question a lot of things she had in other relationships, because she knew him so well . . .

"_Betty – look out_! You're gonna crash into that display of oranges!" Daniel snapped her out of her thoughts, unfortunately a little too late.

They both slipped and fell as the oranges tumbled down and got in their path.

"Ow!" they exclaimed.

Then Betty began to laugh, hysterically – causing Daniel to do the same. He picked up an orange and looked at it.

"_Orange_ you glad we did this?" he asked, in between laughs.

Betty laughed even harder, despite how corny it was.

"Oh my god, I love you!" she giggled, fighting for her breath.

"Wait – what did you just say?" Daniel froze in shock.

"I-I said I love you. That joke was _horrible_ . . . but I love you," she repeated.

Daniel grinned and captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

"Let's clean this up and go home," Betty said with a suggestive look.

"You mean . . .?" Daniel looked at her.

Betty nodded and Daniel immediately scooped up as many oranges as possible and put them back on the display. She helped him, and was about to see if any more had rolled across that section, when he picked her up and put her in the cart.

"Daniel! What are you doing?" she giggled, as he raced to the nearest and shortest line.

"Checking out, so we can go _home . . ._" he answered with a devilish smile.

Betty smiled back and proceeded to help him unload the cart. Life with Daniel was only going to get better . . .


	3. Surprises

_Thank you so much for reading and for your comments! Here's the last installment . . . :)_

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"Hey, Betty - it's Christina. I know I'm springin' this on ye, but I'll be in the city fer a few days an' thought I'd pop by tomorrow fer a bit. Can ye text me yer address? Thanks, love!" Christina said on the message.

"_Daniel . . .!_" Betty yelled into the kitchen as she sent Christina their address.

"What? What'd I do? If you're mad about the puddle in the bathroom – I _swear_ I was gonna clean it up after I saved the bagels from burning!" he defended.

"_What_ puddle in the bathroom?" she asked suspiciously. "Never mind – we've got bigger problems. Christina apparently called last night, after I turned off my phone, and said she's coming over today."

"When?" he asked.

"I don't know – but I just texted her our address. We seriously need to clean up this place. It looks almost as bad as when I moved in," she said, throwing him some of his dirty clothes that were haplessly discarded on the floor.

"Betty, that was only a month ago," Daniel excused.

"I know – I got everything all organized and then it's like every day you throw sale papers on the end table or leave wrappers and bowls everywhere and don't pick them up when you're done. I can never find the entire newspaper in one place – I have to search for sections of it in three different rooms. I found coupons that had expired three weeks ago at the bottom of the pile and tripped over a pair of your shoes last night – there are four more pairs under the coffee table, by the way. And, I'm waiting for the day where I literally break my tailbone on the toilet because you keep leaving the seat up," she rolled her eyes as she searched for the right outfit to wear.

"Well, what about you and your stupid 'lucky' bunny on the dresser – that thing stares at me all the time like it's judging me. Or your damn coaster rule? Or your salsa music at seven in the morning? I wake up and think I'm at a freakin' cantina or something! And your makeup and crap is all over the counter! Yesterday, I thought I'd picked up toothpaste and ended up brushing my teeth with eye cream!" he argued.

Betty burst out laughing. She couldn't help it. Imagining the expression on Daniel's face when he realized what was in his mouth was too much.

"You think that's funny?" he asked, slightly annoyed.

"Yeah . . ." she admitted, hesitantly.

"You do? Well, let's see if you think _this_ is funny?" he said with a twinkle in his eye as he hoisted her pajama-clad body over his shoulder and turned the shower on full-blast, throwing her in it.

Betty squealed as the ice cold water hit her and she pulled him in with her.

"_Betty!_ I was already dressed!" he protested.

"Well, we'll just have to get you some new clothes then . . ." she smiled devilishly, turning the water to warm it up and removing his shirt and pants.

Daniel grinned and proceeded to peel off her clothes as well.

"I can never stay mad at you," he shook his head and covered her mouth with his lips, slipping his tongue in and exploring the depths, his hands roaming all over her naked body. Betty moaned with pleasure, almost forgetting why they had been fighting - then remembered.

"You know we still have to . . . mmmm . . . clean this place up and find a way to . . . mmmm . . . keep it that way, right?" she said, as she kissed his chest and ran her hands over his firm ass.

He picked up a bottle and poured shampoo in his hand.

"Promise," he vowed, massaging her scalp as he shampooed her hair.

"Good," she smiled adoringly at his face, hair soaked and water dripping off his nose. He couldn't get much sexier.

"What?" he asked, gently washing her skin with a loofa.

"Nothing . . . I just love this – moments like these," she told him, shyly.

"Me, too," he agreed and kissed her again.

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"Christina!" Betty said, answering the door.

"Ohhh . . . C'mere, you!" Christina smiled, giving her a bear hug and walking into the flat. "Jesus, Betty! Ye didn't tell me ye lived in a penthouse! Yer magazine must be doin' well?"

Betty handed her a coffee.

"Yeah, it is, but this place isn't –" Betty started to explain when Daniel walked into the living room.

"Bloody hell! Daniel Meade? What are ye doin' here?" Christina asked, practically spitting out her café mocha.

"Hello, Christina," he said and hugged her, thoroughly amused. "You didn't tell her?"

"No – we haven't talked since I first moved to London. And you and I were a little pre-occupied this morning . . ." Betty answered.

"_Oh_," Daniel said and cleared his throat, slowly coming up behind Betty and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Well, Christina, I live here, too."

"Ye mean ye two are shackin' up with each other?" she asked, her eyes widening.

"I guess you could call it that," Betty answered, smiling up at Daniel.

Christina just stood there with her mouth open.

"I'll let you girls talk, shop, – whatever - and meet you back here for dinner?" Daniel suggested and briefly but firmly kissed Betty on the mouth before leaving.

Betty nodded, smiling giddily as she closed the door.

"_Why didn't ye bloody tell me!_" Christina exploded.

"I wanted to see the look on your face," she teased. "No – I honestly have been so busy; I haven't had a whole lot of time to tell anyone anything."

"Well I nearly pissed meh damn knickers seeing his face here! What happened with ye two? The last I heard, the jackass wouldn't even give ye the time of day," Christina asked.

"He showed up a week after I'd moved here, in the middle of Trafalgar Square. He apologized, said he'd resigned from MODE, and asked me to dinner. He never said anything about wanting a relationship, but he kept looking at me like I was the only woman on the planet and flirting like crazy. It took us a couple of weeks to make it official, but we finally kissed when I helped him move in here. I moved in about a month later. That's pretty much it," Betty elaborated.

"That's a lot, love. It's about time Daniel finally recognized what ye mean to him. I never thought it'd ever happen, though. Ye always went above an' beyond to save his sorry arse. But Daniel was always too shallow to see true love – even when it was right in front of him fer four years," Christina replied.

"Well, it's not like _I_ saw it coming either," Betty defended. "Claire was the one who came up with the theory. That's the first time I even thought about it."

"Does he make ye happy?" Christina asked, protectively.

"Insanely," Betty grinned, dreamily.

"Treat ye right?" Christina questioned.

"Like a queen," Betty smiled.

"The shaggin' as good everyone claims?" Christina grilled.

"_Christina!_" Betty protested.

"Well, get out with it!" Christina teased, shamelessly.

"Better . . ." Betty reluctantly, yet satisfactorily giggled.

Christina laughed.

"Then I'm happy fer ye, love," Christina sincerely told her.

"Thank you," Betty said and stood up. "So, you wanna go shopping?"

"Sounds good. I can show ye meh new line at Harrod's an' then we can eat lunch at that little bistro with those really good seasoned chips," Christina agreed, following Betty out the door.

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"_Betty . . .!_ What's taking you so long? We're gonna be late for graduation," Daniel knocked on the bathroom door, a few weeks later.

"Go without me – I think I'm coming down with something," she answered weakly, kneeling over the toilet.

Daniel opened the door.

"That bad?" he said, kneeling next to her and feeling her forehead. "You don't seem warm?"

"I know. I don't get it – must be some new virus or something," she replied. "You need to go."

"No – I can't leave you when you're sick," Daniel said. "Besides, it's not really my graduation anyway - just some of the guys from my classes. I was only going to support them, and wanted them to meet you, but it's not a big deal."

"Daniel, it _is_ a big deal – you're still getting a certificate, and you've accomplished a lot in the past few months. I'm really proud of you and you should be proud of you, too. So go – have fun!" Betty insisted.

"Baby, are you sure?" he said uncertainly, handing her a glass of water.

"Yes," she said, rinsing out her mouth.

"Do you need anything before I leave?" he offered.

"Can you help me to the couch? Oh – and get me those brownies we made?" she asked as he pulled her up and led her to the living room.

She slowly laid down and he put a blanket over her and got the brownies.

"Do you really think this is a good idea on an empty stomach?" Daniel questioned.

"But I'm hungry and it sounds good," she whined.

He handed them over.

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay?" Daniel asked, skeptically.

"Fine. I'll just watch some TV and take a nap," she assured him.

"Okay. Feel better," he said, kissing her forehead before leaving.

Betty shoved a brownie in her mouth and couldn't stop. She had finished the entire plate and an entire jumbo bag of potato chips with a jar of French onion dip by the time Ricky and Fred had forgiven Lucy and Ethel yet again on an afternoon marathon of 'I Love Lucy'. What was wrong with her? She usually didn't pig out unless she was upset or nervous and she wasn't either. And the throwing up? She didn't have a cough or a runny nose . . . She hadn't felt like this since – _Oh god!_ She shot up and threw on some decent clothes, grabbed a light jacket, and ran out the door.

She could _not_ be pregnant! She and Daniel had been extremely careful. And there was no way they needed that responsibility in their lives right then . . . that is, if he even wanted it at all. What if he didn't? She loved him so much, but having a baby could change everything. It could break them apart, even if he was willing to help raise it. Just the stress and 4AM feedings and the having no idea what to do and not having any time for themselves . . .

She found the correct aisle in the pharmacy and pondered the million choices of tests. Should she go with the fastest time or the clearest response? Did she want a digital one or the classic pink or blue result? She sighed and her mind wandered back to what would happen if the test was positive.

What about her career? She had just put out her second issue. Of course she had about seven more months to work, but she knew how much taking care of a child could impact her business future. Hilda was never able to go to college or even start her own business for years after Justin was born. And what about Daniel? He had just finished taking extra classes in order to find a job he enjoyed. She couldn't ask him to sacrifice that in order to take care of their child . . .

She finally decided on a digital one with the fastest response time, paid for it, and absently walked back to their flat.

Having a child meant giving up a lot of things, but then she thought about how great Justin had turned out to be . . . how proud Hilda was of him . . . Betty remembered helping her raise him . . . how amazing it felt when she first held him in her arms . . . those little fingers and toes . . . the long eyelashes . . . the laugh he gave when he was a few months older and more aware of his surroundings. Then there were all the milestones – crawling, walking, talking, his first day of school . . . There were so many good things that could come out of this.

She remembered when Wilhelmina had handed little William over to Daniel to hold. She had been right – he _did_ look like a 'grinning idiot', but it was adorable to see him so unabashed with affection. And when he had thought DJ was his son, it took him a while, but he stepped up and he loved that boy as if he had been his own, even after the results proved differently. Betty knew, without a doubt, that Daniel would make an incredible father. The question was whether he wanted to with her or not.

She looked down at her stomach and realized that there might be a little person inside of her that had Daniel's eyes and smile and her hair and complexion. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all . . .

She went into the bathroom and took the test, then flipped on the TV to distract herself. Only, the commercials showed ads about baby formula, diapers, and toys. She couldn't help but smile, thinking that could be her in seven months.

The timer dinged and she jumped up, eagerly anticipating the results. But what she saw made her heart sink a little more than she thought it would. She laid down on the bed and felt tears escaping her eyes. Why was she so upset? She should be glad. Everything in her life would stay the same; she wouldn't have to alter anything in it – well, except for trying to burn off the 5,000 calories she had consumed in only one afternoon – which only made her cry even more.

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Betty woke up a few hours later to find Daniel sitting next to her playing a game on his IPad.

"When did you get home?" she asked.

"About an hour ago. Feeling any better?" he asked, putting the tablet down and stroking her hair. "Hey . . . have you been crying?"

Betty looked down at the comforter, wondering if there was even any point in telling him.

"Betty, you can tell me anything - you know that by now. What is it?" Daniel said, gently encouraging her.

She looked into his kind blue eyes and knew she couldn't keep it from him.

"I um . . . I-I'm not pregnant," she burst into tears again.

Daniel wasn't sure how to react, so he just held her until the sobbing stopped.

"So, I take it this is a bad thing, then?" he carefully assumed. "I didn't know we were trying – were we?"

"We weren't – I would've discussed it with you first . . . I just thought I might be when I got sick this morning and then pigged out on junk food in the afternoon," she explained.

"Oh," he responded. "So you already took the test?"

She nodded.

"It's stupid. I know I should be relieved, but a part of me thought it'd be kind of nice," she admitted. "Crazy, right? We've never even talked about getting _married_ – why would throwing a kid into our lives be a good thing –"

Daniel cut her off, kissing her briefly but passionately.

"We've never talked about it because I didn't want to push you. But Betty, you're _it_ for me. And whatever happens – good or bad – I want to be there for you," he confessed.

"You do?" she said.

He nodded.

"Betty, if you _had_ been pregnant, did you think I would have left you?" he asked.

Betty hesitated.

"I-I didn't know. I was hoping you wouldn't . . . and deep down I knew you'd probably do the noble thing and stay . . . but if you didn't really want the baby, then what would be the point?" she told him.

"Hey – listen to me. I will _never_ leave you – not because of obligation, but because I love you," assured her.

"I love you, too," she smiled and hugged him.

"And just so you know, the thought of a baby that's part you and part me sounds amazing," he added.

"Really?" Betty said.

"Really . . . I want a life with you Betty – and that includes children someday. And if one ends up coming before we planned, that's okay, too," he told her.

"You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that," she confessed.

Daniel grinned.

"Then I hope you'll be happy with what I say next," he said, going over to his suit jacket and pulling out a small blue box from the inside pocket. "I was going to ask you after the ceremony, before we went to the party."

Betty's heart fluttered as Daniel revealed the intricate five carat, three stone, princess-cut diamond ring.

"I've had this since you agreed to move in with me . . . I was just waiting for the right time to ask you," he said, getting down on bended knee. "Betty Suarez, will you do me the great honor of being my wife?"

She couldn't believe it was actually happening. From a day that started out horribly, it was ending on an insanely good note. She felt a tear trickle down her cheek.

"Yes._ Yes!_" she answered and shakily held out her left hand.

He slipped it on her finger and zealously captured her mouth. When they finally broke, Daniel took her hands as they sat back down on the bed.

"There's something else I wanted to tell you," he said. "I had an interview last week with an advertising company. I didn't want to say anything if I didn't get the job, but I found out that I did. I'm their new COO – I start in a couple of weeks."

"Oh my god – Daniel, that's great!" she hugged him enthusiastically, so hard that he fell backward and she fell on top of him. "I guess we have a lot of things to celebrate . . ."

"Definitely . . ." he agreed, seductively pressing his lips to hers.

Betty got lost in the moment as he deepened the kiss, realizing no matter what happened in their lives, she and Daniel would always be there to love and support each other. She would never lose him and that was all she needed to know.


End file.
